Cookies and Crumbles
by Sonya-Heather-DeVito
Summary: Marvolo finds that cooking isn't his forte when he struggles to help Mrs Gregson. Canon Divergence. Fem Harry/Voldemort. This is a side fic to my previous one-shot 'New Beginnings.'


**_A/N: This is a side fic to my already published one-shot 'New Beginnings'. It is a genderbent story where Harry Potter is a female and is married to the Dark Lord in an attempt to stop the war._**

**_A/N 2: Written for the House Competition Year 4. I don't own Harry Potter; it solely belongs to J.K. Rowling!_**

**_House: Ravenclaw_**

**_Year/Position: Prefect_**

**_Category: Drabble_**

**_Prompt: [Action] Cooking with muggles as a witch or wizard_**

**_Word Count: 949_**

* * *

Marvolo's hand was aching badly from the constant stirring he'd been doing for what felt like hours. Salazar, he couldn'tcook _or_ bake, even if his life depended on it. He frowned at all the mess in front of his eyes - it didn't look anything like what Mrs Gregson usually made.

"Let's see what you've done Tommy." Mrs Gregson's voice made him look up as she entered the kitchen; his heart clenched in fear as to what she would say at his failed attempt. He got the opposite reaction to what he was expecting because no sooner, Mrs Gregson's booming laugh filled the entire kitchen.

He watched with furrowed brows as she moved further to inspect his work and smiled cheekily at him.

"What is this?" she asked, gesturing at her dough covered counter. _Everything_ was an absolute mess. There were eggs broken on one side, and milk spilled over the other end. The chocolate stains on Tommy's apron spoke of the immense struggles he'd faced in her absence.

"This is the cookie dough you asked me to make," Marvolo spoke with a slight pout as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I am talking about this," she exclaimed at her distorted bakery kitchen.

"And why is this dough watery? I thought you could bake when you so enthusiastically offered to help me when I said Billy wouldn't be here today," Mrs Gregson made a funny face when she checked up on it.

She looked at Tommy, who now sported a disheartening face, and offered, "Why don't you clean yourself up while I clear this all up. Then I can show you how to make the dough and finish with the rest of the orders."

"That will be acceptable," he muttered and went out of the kitchen. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know how to cook. No one had ever taught him such basic skills. When he came back though, Mrs Gregson was in full chef mode, as he usually loved to call it. He watched in amazement as Mrs Gregson moved around with such ease - putting things in their designated places, cleaning the counter, and whatnot. Seeing her healthy and happy, made Marvolo feel content. He often wondered as to how he would have been able to survive, had Mrs Gregson not offered him that job and hot coffee, all those years ago. What would have happened had she not been kind and selfless to him? He knew not, and nor was he interested in that answer. He just knew that Mrs Gregson was his family, and no one could change this fact.

He moved forward when she looked at him expectantly, "Are you gonna stand there and stare at me all day, Tommy? Come one, hurry up. We've got loads to do." Marvolo smiled inwardly at the_ horrid _nickname she'd given him - now it'd just grown on him.

"Okay, first things first, preheat the oven," she instructed as she did the task. Marvolo remained rooted to his spot. His love for Mrs Gregson_ didn't_ mean that he trusted Muggle inventions at all.

He mixed all the ingredients - flour, baking soda, salt, and baking powder - as she said. Next on, he creamed the butter and sugar. He loved to use magic whenever he could, but the thrill and excitement to make delicious and fresh cookies with your own hands, and that too under the guidance of lovely Mrs Gregson, was quite unexplainable.

Mrs Gregson, in the meantime, beat the eggs and vanilla until they were fluffy.

Marvolo was so focused on his task that he never saw his wife, standing in the doorway and observing him, with a soft smile on her face. His eyes only flicked to Harriet when Mrs Gregson put the tray in the hot oven.

"What would your minions think, if they saw the most feared Dark Lord, wearing a polka-dot apron?" Harriet asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Salazar, he loved this woman!

"Imagine the news in Daily Prophet if Rita Skeeter knew about it - The Dark Lord, Voldemort, making cookies, because the young chef of Tennessee's most famous bakery - 'Cookies and Crumbles', caught the flu," Harriet spoke in a _dramatic _voice, one that would rival the crazy journalist's. Mrs Gregson snorted in the background. She'd grown to like Harriet from the moment Tommy had introduced his equally stupid and lovely wife.

"Very funny, dearest. I didn't do it because Billy was sick. I did because Mrs Gregson needed my help. We can't let keep people from tasting her delicious food."

"You missed a bit," Harriet spoke. He stood still as she moved forward, and dusted the dough from his cheeks and hair lovingly. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"Well, the cookies look good, only the cake is left, and then Margaret will deliver them," Mrs Gregson spoke to herself, like she usually did, as she walked around the kitchen.

"Alright, Harrie would you mind helping me with the frosting of the cake?" she asked.

"Of course, Mrs Gregson. What should be the flavour of the frosting?"

"Raspberry for the first and hazelnut for the second. Tommy would you be able to help Harrie dear with the cakes?" Mrs Gregson looked at him questionably. He seemed to ponder over the request for a few moments, before he spoke up.

"Nah. I think I'm good with tasting them later on." He shrugged casually and swiftly moved out of the kitchen when the bell chimed, indicating the arrival of customers."Now if you girls will excuse me, I've some customers to look after."

"Stupid Tommy," Mrs Gregson muttered fondly under her breath.


End file.
